


Safe as Safehouses - full version, Chapter 20 of Vincent,Redefined Part 3

by TheArtOfBlossoming



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtOfBlossoming/pseuds/TheArtOfBlossoming
Summary: Vin and Mac pass by a ruined high-rise which reminds the Sentinel-General that he may have some loose ends to tie.MacCready shares an unpleasant secret.[Edit - this section added from the 'Vault 831' challenge, to collect Vin & Mac's story into the larger story arc, kept hidden under a link due to the sensitive nature of the subject. I felt it was too restrictive to tag the entire work with non-con just because of this short section but too important to the narrative to delete it.]
Kudos: 3





	Safe as Safehouses - full version, Chapter 20 of Vincent,Redefined Part 3

It had been a routine patrol, the Sentinel and his Paladin (or the General and his Major, depending on who's prioritising which titles) were scouring the area for any unexplored locked doors or twisted walking human remains that needed disposing of. They walked right past it once but when they'd circled around again, Vincent stopped dead.

"Ahh tits-an-shit!"

"You been saving that one? Cap in the swearbox, Vin."

"Shh. Remember this place?"

"Urghh… Tick on a Robot? Tea con de rigeur? Heh. I give up."

Mac's face fell as he looked over at Vincent's naturally pale, now blanched face. "Ticonderoga. High Rise."

The building was indeed a high rise but that wasn't what he was referring to. It was the man, hopefully still alive, hopefully still hiding inside. If Brotherhood came barging in - well, anyone save Vincent, perhaps, maybe Mac, they'd not stop to hear Maxson's revised mission statement. They would just present an excuse for any of the Brotherhood uncomfortable enough with their change of tune to _accidentally_ slip a trigger finger.

"We're going, now. I need Diesel for this."

MacCready now looked decidedly concerned as the snuck along, biting his bottom lip so that the light brown beard under it bristled straight out. "Think you can persuade him outta his shiny carapace? They'd spot that tincan strut a mile off."

"Of course. Can't have Mr. Outstanding standing out, now, can we. I need him with me...and you at home with the boys."

_Way to make me feel like a househusband, Vin._

"Here is not the best place to discuss this," Vincent replied to his unspoken thought. Preston must have been teaching him to read faces again.

They returned home via the Prydwen, dropping off samples, tech and documents, plus two cans of reactor coolant for which Proctor Ingram slipped them both a bottle of whiskey to share, courtesy of the entire maintenance crew.

Mac was glad to get back to Sanctuary. Floating in a fire-powered metal balloon above water was a wonderful juxtaposition of all the elements that _didn't_ earn his affinity. He had to stop himself from physically getting down to kiss the ground when he stepped off the Vertibird but then, that was partly because he didn't want mud in his beard.

Duncan ran out to greet him, followed by Marcy nursing Roberta, telling Mac in detail all the little ways the cheeky monkey had tried her over the past two days but also adding that he was 'lovely with the baby'. Jun came out holding what had been a Salisbury Steak box with drawings of green and orange stick men on. "Dad an' Pop" Duncan had explained, beaming. Naked stick figures except that the green one wore a hat and the orange one had a moustache which reached down to his chest.

Mac braced his only-recently stimmed back for the running Dunc, caught him up and tipped him upside-down under one arm whilst running a gentle hand over the baby's head. "Hey, li'l sis." 

* * *

MacCready woke Vincent up, again. He was sweating, tossing and turning under the threadbare blanket, curled up and writhing. Vin laid a hand gently on his back but that elicited a sudden movement as Mac shot up, shouting "Getyourfuckin'handsoffme!"

Vin backed off. "Whoa, Mac, its me, its Vin. It's me, love." MacCready stared into space wildly for a moment before properly waking up and seeing Vincent before him. 

"Bad dreams again?"

"You think?" snapped MacCready.

"Hey, whoa. Mornin' to you too. Anything you want to talk about?"

"No! Sorry, I just…it doesn't matter. Want coffee?"

"Sure I do but let me do it. You just sit there and gather yourself back together."

"No, I'll do it. Helps to get me over these."

* * *  
Mac and Vin sat together at their dining room table, tucking into bowls of Sugarbombs with a kind of milk that Marcy had made out of the Razorgrain. It wasn't half bad. Vin missed his dairy but you did not want to drink the sour, greenish liquid that brahmin produced. Let the calves have that.

Mac ate quietly. Usually he'd have a quip or a little whine or a comment about it being a good day for travelling. Not on the mornings after he'd had a bad nightmare, though and this was the third morning in a row. Vincent decided that he had to say something.

"You gonna tell me about it or do we have to play twenty questions."

"No."

"No you won't or no we don't have to do the twen.."

"Just drop it, Vin. I'm gonna take a leak."

Vincent sighed and stood up to clear away the breakfast things.

* * *

They spent that day clearing a new Stingwing nest from a site near Trudy's Diner, then doing some repairs and building work at Starlight. They worked so late that they were offered a bunk but Mac just wanted to go home. They rolled over Sanctuary bridge past midnight, exhausted and parched. MacCready hadn't been in a talkative mood all day. He hung up his hat alongside his bandolier, rifle and backpack, kicked off his boots, shrugged off his duster and flung it over a chair. After a moment in the bathroom, he spat and emerged only to flop onto the bed, rolling into the blanket.

Vin unburdened himself and settled quietly beside his beloved companion, snagging as much cover as he could and slipped into a calm and peaceful slumber.

"Youcan'tmakeme, shit, getoff, letmego!" MacCready woke Vin up with a kick in the ribs.

"OW!" Mac, wake up man. "Yer dreamin' again. Violently." Vincent rubbed at the blossoming bruise.

"Sorry, Vin. I'll…I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

"No you won't. What you will do is _talk to me_."

"No, I won't. Drop it, Vincent."

Vin scowled. He stood up and whilst Mac was stooping to pick up his boots, moved round to block the door and squared his shoulders. Mac straightened up and immediately slumped when he realised that there was a man-mountain in his way.

"Alright. I give in." MacCready dropped his boots back on the floor and sagged back to sit on the bed.

Vincent came and sat gently beside him, lowering his voice.

"Was it about Lucy?"

"No. Not this time. Those dreams don't bother me so much any more, since…"

Vin cocked an eyebrow, quizzically.

"…since I met you."

"So what is it, then?"

"Just stuff that nobody talks about. Stuff that happens to a lot of folk these days, at some point."

Vincent sat quietly, waiting for Mac to carry on but he said nothing, so he prompted: "What set them off this time?"

Mac ran a hand through his bushy brown hair, dislodged a hardened bogey with his little finger, flicked it aside and sighed. "That Gunner camp we cleared the other day. One of them reminded me of…"

"Quincy?"

"No. Well…yes and no. I really don't wanna go into details."

Vin sighed. He'd been through enough military medic enforced psych sessions to know that if they stopped there, the nightmares might stop for now but they'd return sooner or later, probably worse. He was getting really concerned, this wasn't like the Mac he knew, so he tried again.

"Alright. You wanna hold it all in, go right ahead but if you shiv me in your sleep, I'm gonna haunt you."

Mac looked Vin in the eye, a trace of the amused twinkle briefly sparking between them. Then, a cloud went across his face. He dropped his eyes to the floor and his voice to a near-whisper.  
Outside, most of Sanctuary was still sleeping, the sun about to chase the stars away. If there had been curtains at the windows, they would have been dancing in a warm pre-dawn breeze.

"… I was gang-raped, Vin."

Vincent was taken aback, he'd had no idea and found no words to express his shock. MacCready swallowed hard and continued.

"The Gunners…they're animals. When the officer caught wind that I might desert, he tried to deal with it 'discreetly'…which meant sending his bitch sisters and 'Grunter' to visit my isolated guard post. They held me down whilst the bitchiest one stripped me and grabbed…she forced herself on me. I hated it but my stupid dick just stood to attention whilst …she…"

Vin put a finger to his lips. "Shh. You don't have to say any more. Oh Mac.."

"You opened the floodgate, Vin. Let me lance this thing once and for all."

Vin nodded.

"When _she_ was done, they tied my wrists, threw me on the ground and he started…he was gonna finish the job from behind. Stuck his filthy finger in me and it was still there when I heard the laser musket spin up and felt the warm, wet bits of his brain over the back of my head. I just lay there, paralyzed for what felt like an hour. Can't have been more than a few seconds really because when I dragged his hand away from me and pulled my pants up, I saw the sisters busy fighting. I turned and took some shots into the town but not at the settlers. One sister went down and I took down the bitch who had …had raped me.

Mac's heart was pounding, his whole frame vibrating with nerves. He looked up at Vin with his almond-shaped eyes as wide as they would go.

"Fucknuke. Do you think… did that…put you off me?

"God, no Mac, I love you! That's not gonna change." Vin wrapped his big, comforting arms around the shivering sniper. "Sorry to say that even back in my day there were bastards like that. I'm so sorry you went through that but it is past. You're safe, respected and protected, y'hear?"

Mac nodded, mutely. "I don't know if the nightmares'll go just because I told you, though."

"I can't promise they will. At least now you don't have to try holding it all in. Maybe we've just defused the nightmare bomb but if not, we'll deal with the shrapnel, bit by bit."

Mac snuggled further into Vin's embrace and allowed himself to relax. He gently reminded himself: Vin had his back. Always.

Except...he had a mission to do. "You're safe here, Mac. I won't be long, hero, I promise." Vincent stayed just long enough to sit at the table with his family and eat a meal before repacking his backpack, hugging the boys and Mac all together and then heading over the bridge.

" Are you sure this the best course of action, brother?" Danse asked as he wiped grease off his hands and threw the rag aside.

"I'm not sure there even _is_ a best option here, Dan, but I have to try. Ticon is the last remaining safehouse in the 'wealth. I'm really hoping to find it empty but if there are any agents and synths left inside, I'm hoping that with you by my side, they might at least listen."

"Doubtful. They may not have been informed of my status. Also, you were instrumental in the slaught.."

"STOP. Just…stop. You know how I feel about that," Vin shouted, his face flushing red.

Danse raised his hands submissively. "Simply stating facts. Though…perhaps I could have phrased it a little more sensitively."

"Damn right, you could've."

The radio chattered cheerily in the corner. Travis was feeling the groove today. Vin sat down heavily on the blue soda bar stool and stroked his prospector-like moustache.

"You're probably right, though," Vin muttered through a resigned sigh. "I have to at least try."

They spent the best part of an hour selecting the best stealth armour and weaponry available, making slight modifications and planning their route. It was an eerily quiet journey. They surprised a pack of hounds and quickly defeated two, scaring the last away. The whir of Vertibird blades caused them both to duck into Raider territory but luckily, there had not been any sackheads home for weeks. If the lancer spotted Vincent with Danse, Vin knew he was under orders to fire, Sentinel present or not. 

Ticonderoga stood apparently abandoned. Vin pressed the elevator switch in just the right way to get it to work and holstered his weapons. The creaky lift wobbled its way to the top. Vin's heart was pounding. He wished briefly for a quick hit of something but suppressed that thought before it took shape. The elevator doors wheezed open. A couple of agents (or maybe synths, or one of each, it was so hard to tell) spun around in surprise. The woman in front quickly drew a weapon. Vin held his palms out and tried to placate her but she yelled 'Bull!' and fired. Vincent tipped to one side reflexively, her bullet grazing his shoulderplate and disarmed her with a bullet to the elbow. The cowering synth behind made a run for the stairs. Danse knocked the assailant down and glowered at her, commanding her to stay down.

Vincent, meanwhile, gun still in hand but lowered, cautiously mounted the stairs. He rounded a corner just as he heard the sound of a gun being reloaded. Highrise stood there, barrel raised, a desperate look on his face.

"Get out. Now. Before I do shit I never signed up for."

Vin lowered his gauss rifle and slowly gestured for Danse to do the same. "HQ gave us no choice, Highrise. They wouldn't listen. They were closed to change. That's how war is perpetuated."

The slender, dark figure lowered his weapon just a fraction. He was listening.

"This man here was Brotherhood until they discovered that he too is an escaped synth but they let him go. We still need you, Highrise. I need you, to prove to the Brotherhood that Gen 3 synths are truly alive, that they deserve our protection just as much as any hardworking settler with an unfortunate past."

Suddenly, the gun was up again. "No. No, you can't talk your way out of murdering all those agents, all those synths. Can't let you go, Bullseye. You know too damn much."

Suddenly they were all moving, weaving and ducking, the enclosed space filling painfully with the harsh explosions and tinkling of spent shells, the red glare of laser fire and the acrid ozone stench. Hot metal, burned flesh, melted plastic and the odd sickly-savoury scent of deceased synthetic. Within less than four minutes, Ticonderoga stood quiet once more. Danse cocked his head at the sound of muffled whimpers behind tipped filing cabinets. The previously rescued synth H2 and a female cowered in the corner. The ex-paladin raised his gun, reluctantly but Vin motioned him to ceasefire. It may not have been kind, leaving the two green escapees to fend for themselves but Vincent felt sick. He had hoped that Highrise would see sense. None of them did, though. Maybe they were so steeped in paranoia and their own railroaded brand of righteous fervour that there never had been any hope of changing their course.

They crept home without speaking a word, this time avoiding a distant Supermutant who had been so kind as to strap a high explosive to his arm. It took out the two greenskins eating raider drumsticks and the cadging mutant hound at their feet.

* * *

Red Rocket's welcome silhouette, inked in red by the spotlamp below, beckoned on the horizon. Danse laid a hand on Vincent's shoulder. "Hold up, brother." Vin stopped but grumbled that they were a stonesthrow from home. He had begun to sound rather like MacCready at times which vaguely irritated the muscular synth. "You gave the man a chance but he made his choice. We can't help those who do not seek the support."

"Yeah. I didn't have a hope of derailing the runaway train. Maybe I should've left well enough alone."

"If you had, chances are that the Railroad would renew itself only as a synth sympathiser raider gang or as a legitimate threat. Either way, they chose their fight. War always comes down to two things. Live or Die." 

Vin was looking down pensively at his hands, rubbing flakes of dried blood off them. "I've had enough of war," he said quietly. "Time for a change."


End file.
